Warmth
by Coalesced
Summary: All Bella seemed to be able to do in life was homework and men. Rich but alone, she is unable to sleep comfortably without the warmth of someone else. She knows that the only way to stop the cold was to escape. However, she falls in love with Edward whose very existence threatens her escape. Would she choose the love of her life or the life she loves? All human. BellaxEdward


**Warmth**

**Full summary**: All Bella seemed to be able to do in life was homework and men. With a mother who ran away and a father who only cares about work, she was practically raised by the many helpers in her mansion. Rich but alone, she finds herself unable to sleep comfortably without the warmth of someone else next to her. She knows that the only way to stop feeling cold was to escape the life she has under her father's tight rein. However, she falls in love with Edward whose very existence threatens her escape. Would she choose the love of her life or the life she loves? All human. BellaxEdward

A/N: This was actually an original fiction, but I wanted to see if it would receive positive reviews before continuing it. So I came back to fanfiction and change the looks and names of the characters. So yeah. Please review :-)

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters' names and appearances.

* * *

**Prologue**

When I woke up, the sun was peeking through my white sheer curtains. I sat up. I could vaguely see the dust resplendent in the light, dancing with each other in a soundless waltz. It was exactly for sights like that that I could force my eyes open each morning and drag my heavy body through the torturous day.

The lump next to me groaned and his hands shot out to grab something before it collided with my hip. His warm fingertips padded along my pale skin as they traced their journey to the other side of my hips. Wrapping a hand around my exposed hips, he tried to tug me closer to him. I remained immobile and he eventually gave up, contented to burying his head deeper into the pillow while maintaining skinship with me.

I noticed that his hair lost its luster and his skin seemed sallow and dry. _Who was he again?_ I must have been really inebriated last night to settle for one as unattractive as him.

"Babe, what time is it?" he croaked, voice thick with sleep and lack of water.

"Nine." I answered before pushing his hand and the covers off to get out of bed. The winter air swathed me with all its Arctic wrath, raising goosebumps on my previously toasty skin. I shivered, quickly grabbing the bathrobe to cover my naked frame.

I picked up his clothes and threw it at the stranger on my bed. "Get dressed and leave. If you need a smoke, the cigarettes are on my desk."

He lifted his face from the pillow and turned to look at me. His fingers entangled themselves in the wild mess he called hair in a futile endeavour to flatten it. He gave up and instead, shot me a flirtatious smirk that would have had girls falling at his feet. "How about one more round?" He suggested while lifting the covers as if I would jump at the chance to warm the bed once more.

"No."

And when I returned from the shower, he was gone. So was my entire packet of cigarettes.

_Bastard_.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

He slid into the bench opposite me like it was an everyday occurrence. I raised a brow but did not stop the slow perusal of my book.

"What are you reading?" He questioned abruptly.

I glanced up from my book to stare into his emerald orbs, hoping that the intensity of my gaze was disquieting enough to send him scampering with his tail between his legs. He did not leave. Thinking that he was perhaps less fortunate than most in terms of intelligence, I snapped, "I don't know. I use it as a pretense so people won't try to approach me because everyone knows it's rude to interrupt someone when they're reading. Everyone except you, of course. I guess social awareness was not programmed into your genome."

He threw his head back and laughed. He had the audacity to laugh after interrupting my quiet lunch time.

I gritted my teeth and barked out, "Do I even know you?"

"Yes. We had sex on Saturday night." He replied with mirth still present in his eyes. I could faintly remember Sunday's dinner, much less my guest on Saturday night. Scrutinizing his appearance, I realised that he did indeed bear a certain resemblance to the face I remembered in my drunken stupor.

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion, "I was under the impression that he was a college frat boy, _liar_."

"Pot calling the kettle black, Ms Call-Me-Melissa."

"If I had known that we attended the same school, I would not have engaged you then." I admitted, which was entirely true.

When I go to clubs, I usually seek men older than me. All they wanted was a young woman to brighten their night and I desired their body heat. It was a fair trade. Occasionally, one would fancy himself my sugar daddy and it was effortlessly resolved with a single threat to expose our dirty little one night stand. Younger men, those below 23, tend to be hopeless romantics. Firm refusals had to be given before they realised that the girl they met at the night club (of all places) was not going to be their fated soul mate. They also commonly have the preconceived notion that their relentless pursuit was considered flattering. It was not.

"Well, you would have missed out on an amazing night." He waggled his eyebrows which would have been rather impressive if it was not done with prurient interest.

"Who said it was amazing?" I quipped.

He laughed, "You're interesting, Bella." His laughter was loud and filled with overwhelming jubilance. It jarred on my ears and caused abrasions on my bitter old soul.

"How do you know my name?" I was slightly curious. As far as I know, I had stayed under the radar in school. I could not remember names and I did not expect others to remember mine.

Jabbing his thumb in the direction of the cheerleaders, he explained, "Those girls over there told me that 'Bella' in Forks High speak is 'Queen' and that I should avoid you at all costs because you have the power to destroy me."

It was not anything I did not already know. "So explain to me why you thought that a peasant, i.e. you, could talk to the Queen?"

He beamed as if we were best buds already, "Because I want to be your Cinderella."

I blinked several times. _What?_

"How charming," I managed to retort while getting up to leave. Contrary to his beliefs, I was not panting for his attention.

"You hardly touched your lunch! Are you anorexic or something?" He grabbed the apple I left on my tray and trailed after me like I was an important superstar and he was my loyal bodyguard.

"If I was suffering anorexia, I wouldn't have touched it at all. It's just not to my taste." Technically, I was not obligated to conform to societal norms and reply to his interrogation. For some inexplicable reason, I supposed his company was not abhorrent and I had opted to stay within his good graces.

"How about I take you out for dinner tonight to find something that you'll like?"

I took a glimpse out of the large windows that dotted the hallways. Small snowflakes were falling and draping over the ground like a large comfy white quilt. Within the safety of the heated school, I could not feel the biting frost, but I knew without a doubt that the night was going to be freezing. I needed someone with me to get through the wintry dark.

_Someone that was not him._

Past experiences had taught me that when human bodies physically coalesced, it created attachments. 'Friend with benefits' is a total lie. The intensity of fornication between two foreign beings causes friction that generates sparks leading to the misunderstanding of it being the chemical reaction called love.

How should I turn him down gently then? Past instances of guys asking me out had resulted with cutting remarks that had them nursing their wounded egos for weeks.

Cautiously, I tried, "Unless it contains alcohol, it's not going to be to my liking."

He winked, "Got it. Pick you at 6."

_Annoying**.**_

* * *

The ring of the doorbell boomed in my quiet abode. The sound of my heels clicking with the marble floor echoed in the dark mansion. The frigid breeze nips my bare skin causing my hair to stand on its ends. I opened the door to let him in first because he had to be dying in the cold too.

He entered the threshold with a rose in hand. "A beautiful rose for a beautiful lady." He then proceeded to shamelessly look up and down my body.

Placing his hand on his hip and putting on a contemplative look, he posed and tapped his chin with his index finger. His eyebrows furrowed and he commented in a high pitched voice with possibly the best Malibu Barbie accent, "I don't know, girl. The colour just isn't working for you."

I looked down at my burgundy tube dress that ended way too high up on my thigh to be properly decent. I had decided to go to the club after our dinner. I walked up to him, collecting my thick coat from the stand on the way. In my high heels, my forehead was at his eye level. I poked his shoulder hard. "Hasn't anyone taught you not to insult a girl's dressing?"

He beamed, unrepentant, "But I started out with a rose." He stretched out his hand to hand me the rose.

"I'm allergic." I lied. I just did not want to see the rose wither and die. It was always more beautiful alive.

His hand faltered and fell. He tucked the rose inside one of his long trench coat pockets. Pulling my own expensive coat on, I picked up my clutch, ready to leave.

However, he had taken the time to survey the foyer of my house and like an over-exuberant child, he asked, "Why don't you switch the lights on?"

"Why don't you stop being so inquisitive?" Besides, the lights along the driveway were on.

With that, a smug smile flew onto his face, enhancing his sharp features. His head tilted upwards as if he was superior. He proudly proclaimed, "My mummy said it is always good to be curious."

I could not help the snort that escaped my lips. I teased, "Who could argue with that, right?"

"You're finally smiling." He murmured, completely pleased with himself. "So why don't you switch the lights on?" He probed.

"Because there's no one in the house and I spend all my time in my room."

He shuffled out of the house awkwardly, knowing that he had touched a sore spot. While walking to his Lamborghini parked outside the gates, he slotted the red rose into a bush. The red speck was conspicuous in the blanket of white and green. It stood out, just like how he stood out.

Generally, I would have crushed the anomaly. But I let it go this time.

After all, it was rather beautiful.

* * *

"I suggest the Red Wine Vinaigrette Salad and the Steak in Cherry Sauce, which uses cherry brandy." He grinned, absolutely delighted that he had fulfilled the requirements to dine with me. Even though red wine vinaigrette was made of wine vinegar and there was no actual alcohol, the look on his face had me nodding in consent. He then relayed the order to the waiter.

"How did you get a reservation?" I inquired with as much nonchalance as I could feign. The restaurant he picked was no cheap random diner. To procure a seat, one needed to reserve weeks before. Getting in was no easy feat, much less on the day itself.

"My uncle owns the restaurant. Quick to anger and slow to respond, he decided that creating alcohol-infused dishes was going to be his lifetime dream and just went ahead with it." He placed the menu down and granted me his full attention.

I looked up from the small candle between us to stare back at him. Putting as much threat as I could into my tone, I warned, "If you're trying to get corporate secrets from me, I'll have you know that Father reveals nothing to me."

His eyebrows shot up and the sides of his lips quirked up in an amused fashion, "I just wanted to know your story, Bella."

"There's no story."

He chuckled, "No one's home and you sleep with any male older than you. I'm thinking there's a story and you want to share."

"Au contraire, I don't." I retaliated.

"Ah. So there _is_ a story." He concluded triumphantly. Victory did little cartwheels and somersaults in his eyes and I wanted to bash his head into the table. He was being absolutely infuriating.

He poured out the wine from the decanter and the glassware clinked in contact. There was no finesse in his motions. He should have called a waiter. He smiled and offered me a glass. "Tone down the murderous glare, will you? It does nothing for your complexion. Allow the Zinfandel to sweeten your face."

I swirled the wine in the glass before sipping. The liquid slid down with ease and I could taste the slight spiciness to the fruity wine. "Smooth, but I'm not so much of a wine girl."

"Really? But the wine is kind of like you, don't you think? It's…" He placed his glass down and fixed his gaze upon me. "Hot," he breathed out.

I rolled my eyes. "If you're trying to get 'another round', I'll just say right now that: I have rules and I'm not going to bend over for you."

He frowned, brows furrowing in an intense face of concentration. Leaving his ruminative state of mind, he finally replied, "Well, if you're not going to bend over, I'm sure the Kama Sutra has other positions for us to try."

I could not help the unladylike snort that left my nose. I suppose exceptions could be made once in a while.

* * *

A/N: (There is a reason why Bella doesn't know Edward's name yet.)

Should I continue? Please share criticism and thoughts!


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